


we plot in the shadows, hang out in the gallows, stuck in a loop for eternity

by ApocalypticNinja



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Deadman worries, Developing Relationships, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I haven’t finished the game yet, I’m writing as I play the game, M/M, Minor Angst, Multi, Mutual Pining, Sam is sick of MULEs, Scars, Touch-Starved characters, Trans Male Character, like a lot, minor character injury, moderately spoiler free, no beta we die like men, tags update as fic does, this is all done on mobile so I’m sorry in advance, trans Sam Porter Bridges
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22205971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypticNinja/pseuds/ApocalypticNinja
Summary: Hello! This is a book of multiple miscellaneous works!This will have all sorts of different pairings; each chapter will be titled as to what character(s) it will consist of. Each chapter is a stand-alone, unless stated otherwise  Some may be romantic, platonic, or just character studies! All the necessary information will be within the description of the chapter. If necessary, there will be warnings too; I make sure to describe what you’re going to be reading just in case it’s not your cup of tea! :^) I want everyone to enjoy what they’re reading!If you have a request, please comment and I will write it to the best of my ability!This series actually started because one of my mutuals and I had thought it would be fun to write the DS characters in small little warm-ups as we progressed through the game, but eventually these small drabbles turned out to be much longer than we intended. I just recently started playing Death Stranding, but my mutual has been playing since the day it came out. The whole purpose of this book is for everyone to just have fun! (Which will include me writing some self-indulgent things at times!)//title is taken from BMTH Ludens!//
Relationships: Deadman/Die-Hardman, Sam Porter Bridges/Deadman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Deadman/Die-Hardman

_Okay I'm not gonna lie. This chapter is for my friend ! He really wanted some content of these two so,,,here we are. My dear, you always go for the rare pairs and end up dragging me into them with you...we're just a couple of gay idiots, huh? :'^)_

**WARNING(s)** : strong language, otherwise none; this is just pure fluff! (There is a small, VERY small section of angst on Die-Hardman's part) 

**Prompt** : Sleep (from the rarepair king himself) 

☢☢☢☢

Deadman was holed up in his lab all night, running on no sleep. Again. 

How long has it been now..Thirty-something hours? 

Usually this wouldn't be _too_ much of an issue, however, he's been on a codec with Sam for most of it while trying to make sure he makes it back to the Capital safely, among other duties. There was over three medical emergencies in less than two hours, not counting the shit Sam had to go through. 

Sam was also running on no sleep, his time spent going through hell with MULES and BTs at every turn. He wasn't sure how many times he was jabbed by those fuckers, the jolts of electricity forcefully waking him up as he tumbled off his bike. Every time, Deadman stressed just a _little_ more, fearing the worst. BB was stressed, and so were they. 

Deadman was tempted to all but beg Sam for one of his energy drinks. 

By the time Sam got back, the moon was high in the sky, covered by a blanket of timefall. Deadman wanted to make sure Sam was able to actually walk on his own, so he met him down in the delivery center. Sam begrudgingly told him he was fine, swatting away his hands when he tried to help him walk. Sam drug his feet to the terminal, finishing off his deliveries before grumbling on his way to his private room. After thanking Deadman, of course. The man nodded towards Sam as he submerged down below; he was covered in tar, blood, and bruises, his eyes drooping as he clutched onto BB. He had very visible bags under his eyes, and he swayed a bit as he stood in place. Deadman felt a twinge of guilt as he watched him go before turning and heading back to his lab. He wished things were different. He wished things would slow down, even for a little bit, so they could all catch a break. 

His head was throbbing; even something as minor as the flickering fluorescent lights above hurting him. He was thankful for the sunglasses, yet right now they didn't seem to be helping. The trek to his lab seemed to take _years_. Every step he took echoed in his ears, loudly ringing off the walls. The lights above him hummed softly, yet to him it sounded like someone was revving an engine right beside him. Or like a swarm of angry bees flying around in his head. Wow, he was just so _tired_ he started rambling to himself to try to stay awake. 

Finally, _finally_ , he made it back to his lab. He took the sunglasses off, rubbing his eyes while he gracelessly fell into his chair. His body immediately sagged as he sighed in both relief and exhaustion. He was thankful Sam was back safe and moderately unharmed, but goddamn was he tired. Not to mention the fact that everything at the Capital was hectic without the stress of making sure Sam-

"You seem tired," an amused voice suddenly piped up. 

Deadman's head whipped up towards the sound of the voice. Die-Hardman was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and head cocked slightly to the side. He hadn't even noticed Die-Hardman come in. 

How long has he been there? 

"Ah, well, that's to be expected in our line of work!"  
Deadman stuttered out. He forced a tired smile as the pair locked eyes. 

Die-Hardman uncrossed his arms, striding over to where Deadman was sitting. He could basically feel the exhaustion seeping off him. 

"Come to my room when you're finished here, I would like to talk to you." 

Ah, he was always one to just get to the point. No use in making small talk; they were both very busy, and they needed to get things done as quickly as possible. Deadman blinked before opening his mouth and closing it. Usually Deadman tried to hold a conversation, or at least rambled on about something, but now he couldn’t even manage to form a single word; instead, he merely nodded. Was he in trouble for something? What could he have done to be summoned to Die-Hardman's personal quarters? 

"Don't look so worried. It seems the only way I can get you to rest is to drag you away from your work." 

Deadman couldn't see the small smile appear beneath Die-Hardman's mask. Deadman reminded him of someone that he once held so close to him. They were so alike, yet different in many ways. He found Deadman..endearing, to say the least. Definitely a little more than that, yet he pushed down _those_ feelings. The way his stomach fluttered when he caught a glimpse of Deadman smiling, or the way the tips of his ears and cheeks burned when he received praise from the other man. Or how his heart caught in his throat as he observed Deadman cooing at BB. It just wasn't _fair_. He bitterly remembered what happened when he developed feelings for another man before him. He didn't want to bestow the same fate upon Deadman; he feared that he was cursed with the worst of luck as those around him seemed to drop like flies, yet he still lived. It was bittersweet. 

Deadman suddenly huffed a laugh. 

“I must admit, these past few hours have been rough,” more like the past few _days_ , “and yet I’m nowhere near as close to finishing as when I first started.” 

Die-Hardman shook his head. 

“Come with me, you’re not staying down here any longer. You can barely walk on your own two feet. I saw how you stumbled into your seat.”

_Ah. So he did see that._

Deadman waved his hand in dismissal. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine! I was just worried about Sam, is all. He’s been through a lot recently, you know. I was on call with him for a long time, while I tried to maintain work around here. My mind has been quite distracted lately, so I have been rather clumsy. Oh! Speaking of which-“ 

Deadman stood up, ignoring the dizzying feeling that rushed over him as he reached for a folder that sat on his desk. He hoped the other didn’t see the slight stumble in his steps. Die-Hardman sighed and grasped his wrist, cutting off the beginning of a (probably) long ramble and rendering him speechless yet again. 

“You need to rest. You can worry about all of this,” he vaguely gestured towards the mess of his desk, “later on. Now come with me.” 

Die-Hardman slid his hands from Deadman’s wrist to hold his hand in his own. He ignored the thudding of his heart as Deadman laced their fingers together while he pulled Deadman to walk with him. He convinced himself that he was only holding his hand to help him keep his balance as they walked together. He wouldn’t want the other to fall flat on his face, after all. 

The walk to his quarters wasn’t awkward, per say, just...unnecessarily quiet. Besides the echoing of their shoes along the otherwise empty halls, and Die-Hardman’s rapid heartbeat. Dammit. His gaze suddenly turned to Deadman, who was looking everywhere but at him. There was a light pink dusting from his cheeks all the way down his neck. It was..cute. 

Once they reached his room, Die-Hardman had Deadman sit on the bed, causing him to raise a questioning brow. 

“I told you, you need to relax.” 

He ignored how his voice shook as he took a seat next to him. He sounded like a schoolboy who was nervous for his first date. Was he being too obvious? 

As soon as he sat down, Deadman’s face seemed to flush an even darker red. Die-Hardman ignored the possibility of him even remotely harboring the same feelings. He was so lost in thought, he was taken off guard when Deadman suddenly gently caressed his cheek. 

Die-Hardman’s eyes widened as he felt his own face heat up. Deadman drew his hand away, an apology quickly falling from his lips. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know what I was thinking! I...” 

He shook his head as silent dismissal as he reached up for his mask, momentarily hesitating before taking it off and setting it aside. He stared down at the floor, feeling more vulnerable now than he had in a long time. Deadman’s hand lingered in the air before he gently placed his hand in the same place it was before. 

After a few moments of silence passed, Die-Hardman shuffled a little closer and finally looked at Deadman. His gaze was so _soft_ , so filled with love an adoration it made his chest _ache_ , his eyes swell with tears. 

He had the sudden urge to kiss him. 

It took hold of him with such an intensity that is even shocked _him_. He wanted to pull Deadman close, holding him flush against his own body as he kissed him until the sun came up, until all of their stress and worry washed away with each other’s names spilling from their lips, mingling together with laughter and smiles. His eyes fall from Deadman’s gaze to his lips, yet he didn’t move. Neither of them did. 

Die-Hardman was scared. If this progressed further, how would it affect their friendship? Or was he more terrified of the lingering thought that he could lose Deadman in the blink of an eye? He preferred not to think about it too much. Everyday is a struggle in their line of work. Die-Hardman has already lost everyone close to him. He built walls to prevent that from happening again. 

And yet here Deadman was, slowly but surely cracking those walls and watching them tumble to the ground, along with Die-Hardman’s mask. As the mask fell, so did his persona of being the strong-willed leader, the lone wolf. 

He craves the feeling of holding someone close. Of being able to give someone all of his love, and receiving it in return. 

Deadman’s hand slowly drew back, and Die-Hardman suddenly wished for _more_. 

He stood and grabbed a spare blanket he had, quickly returning and draping it across both of their shoulders. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, he sat with their bodies pressed as close together as possible. Deadman’s eyes drooped, and he found it more difficult to stay awake with the passing seconds.

With words unspoken between them, Deadman’s head eventually fell onto Die-Hardman’s shoulder as his eyes slipped shut. Die-Hardman let another smile grace his face as his head rested on his shoulder. They were both still fully-clothed, their suits rather uncomfortable, especially with their positions. And yet he wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity before he shifted into a more comfortable position, laying back on the bed and bringing Deadman with him. He momentarily stirred, yet Die-Hardman was quick to reassure him; Deadman ended up laying with his head on his chest. He hoped he couldn’t hear the rapid thudding of his heartbeat, if he was even still awake. With shaky hands, he pulled the blanket tighter around the both of them before all but clinging onto Deadman, their fingers laced together for the second time tonight. They both needed rest, and perhaps they could talk about this, whatever _this_ was, in the morning. For the moment, he let himself fall into a moment of bliss as he drifted off to the most peaceful sleep he had in years. 


	2. Deadman/Sam; tired eyes, gentle heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dragging his feet across America in a feign attempt at rebuilding it, Sam was _tired_.
> 
>  **WARNING(s):** mentions of injuries, cursing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so it's been like 7 months..  
> but hey I'm back! Even after all this time, I am only on chapter 5. I am about to head into 6, but I am determined to get everyone to 5 stars first, and rebuild the roads! Listen I just love exploring, okay?  
> But! this chapter is self-indulgent; I am running off more than 30 hours of no sleep and I just finished streaming this game, actually.
> 
>  **This chapter is about my experience with attempting to get Mountain Knot City to join the UCA and the hell I had to put Sam through.**  
>  I am really bad at video games :'^)
> 
> OH I know Sam has aphenphosmphobia, but let's say on rare occasions he lets the person, or people, he is close to touch him? Not all the time, but yeah. I have a more mild form of it, so I hope that it is okay that I used that as a baseline for writing Sam? No one takes this phobia seriously when I tell them about it and people are..rude. 
> 
> But, let me establish this. Let's say Deadman and Sam are closer here than what the game shows, and are in a relationship. Sam and Deadman have boundaries for one another, so everything I write they have already previously discussed, and agreed to. 
> 
> (Also here's a small explanation to why I was gone for 7 months; a lot personal shit, I started college/had a full time job, but my job never payed me and I was forced to drop out of my dream college, AND to kick it all of, now I am unemployed- but I do streams over on Twitch!) 
> 
> Anyway I'm done rambling now sorry!!

" _Goddammit_ man!" Sam grumbled as he trekked higher up the mountain. Why they trusted him with a bomb, he had no clue. Die-Hardman had to repeat himself about how _dangerous_ it is, and how _one_ wrong move could send them all into a void out. He barely agreed to help reconnect America, and now they're trusting him with a _bomb_?

Who's going to stop him from going off and joining Higgs, right here right now? He has the power to just say 'fuck this' and cause destruction upon the whole dammed area. It would probably be easier than this at any rate. 

As Sam started to pity himself more, BB started cooing, and Sam felt a small tinge of his sour mood slip away. 

Just a small amount though. 

There were a multitude of things that contributed to his sour mood, but he could name a few that managed to work their way to the top of his list. It felt as though his entire body was caked in mud, he could see a truck full of MULEs in the distance, and he was still miles from his destination. He was already injured from his last run-in with them; he just had no luck today it seemed. Not just one, but _both_ of his Bola Guns had ran out of ammo before he reached the Distribution Center, and the MULEs were still chasing after him. BB was screaming, but he had no time to attempt to calm her down; he was getting shot at from every angle, and he barely even had time to breath. There were more MULEs here than he was prepared for, and he used to just infiltrate the other territories with ease. He didn't even try to get into a postbox this time, they were just out to kill him- not even after his cargo. Die-Hardman later informed him that these MULEs were only out to kill him. _"You're a little late on the heads-up there, boss man."_ Sam thought to himself, but stayed silent while Die-Hardman kept taking. 

By the time he finished his delivery, Die-Hardman was quick to call again, explaining that the situation was dire. He had to get to Mountain Knot City as quickly as possible. He didn't have time to shower or treat his wounds. He simply fabricated a new Bola Gun, recycled his old ones, then immediately set out again. 

He _should_ have fabricated a bike or something. But didn't Die-Hardman mention BT territory? BTs and bikes are bad news. Sam knew. 

Good thing he's a repatriate. 

As it turned out, Sam didn't even enter BT territory; he somehow managed to avoid it completely, despite seeing the clouds looming above him, threatening to break at any moment. He even saw a few strands and a rainbow overtop his head. However, there was nothing. Maybe it was because he read his map wrong and ended up on the top of a fucking mountain, and not _inside Mountain Knot City_

The threatening echo of the MULEs alarm systems rang in his ears, surrounding him and he wasn't even sure if they were following him. He knew they saw him, managed to ping him, but they wouldn't be dumb enough to climb up to the peak of a mountain, right?

...Right?

Apparently, he was wrong. They were dead-set on killing him. He felt the gunshot enter his leg before he heard anything, and soon enough, he was tumbling down the mountain. Whatever god was looking down on him, if any, apparently was in his favor. Luckily the bomb didn't go off (and trigger a voidout) but BB was near an autotoxemia, and Sam was more worried about her than anything else. His leg throbbed; his whole body ached and hurt in ways he didn't even know was possible. He was _tired_. Apparently, they followed him outside of their claimed territory, which Sam has never encountered before. 

Sam ignored the way his mind and body screamed at him to rest or at least sit down. He detached BB's pod from his suit and began rocking her, attempting to calm her to the best of his ability. He showed no signs of frustration to BB, he refused to do so. She already got enough shit from other Bridges members. 

After BB seemed alright again, he set out towards Mountain Knot City. He couldn't wait for them to join the Chiral Network so he could let both BB and himself get some rest. 

Sam managed to get himself lost again, but luckily didn't fall down any mountains. He did manage to get himself turned around, so he accidentally entered Mountain Knot's territory in the back area. He picked up his pace, excited to get the cargo off his back. He was careful to avoid any of the black substance on the ground. Die-Hardman wasn't kidding when he said they were in dire need of help. 

When he activated the terminal, an automated voice spoke up and all hopes of getting rest vanished. This seemed like it was turning into a Peter Englert situation. _Who even is that guy, anyway? Sam asked other Bridges members about him but only received questioning glances in return. No one seemed to know him; at least, no one seemed to care. Even though he only seemed to get ahold of Sam, he figured that at least someone would know about the dude, weird writing and all._

What Sam didn't expect was for Mama to be staring right back at him. 

"Mama?"

***

After all of the hell Sam went through, Not-Mama didn't want to join the UCA because of family drama? She sent Sam off without so much as a goodbye, instead just a blatant refusal to join the "terrorists." If he wasn't prepared for the journey here, he sure wasn't prepared for the journey back. This time, however, he steered clear of any mountain trails and stuck by the winding river.

It wasn't long until the timefall started up again. Sam cursed and took off running to find some semblance of shelter. He wouldn't be too worried normally, but he was in an unfamiliar location, and according to the weather, it wasn't supposed to let up for hours. He stuck by the river, but kept his eyes open for anything he could use to hide, or even other porters along the way, however unlikely it would be to meet them. Not too far ahead was a cave, and a quick odradek scan showed there were no threats around. Once he was sure he was out of the timefall, he put his otter hood down and just..sat down. _Even if Sam didn't show it, he was grateful for the otter hood. The gift was cute, and the Cosplayer's husband was very excited to give it to him. He managed a small smile at the time, but Sam wasn't sure if he noticed. He made a mental note to stop by and thank him..Maybe he could bring him some extra lost cargo, or find some materials to make him a gift out of?_ It was the first ounce of rest he's gotten in what felt like forever. He leaned his bag against the cave's innermost wall, and he was soon to follow. The timefall seemed to be pouring down now, and he was glad he wasn't caught in the storm. His head fell to the wall with an audible _thunk_. He knew he needed to check his wounds and treat them, even if it was a minuscule amount, but he just wanted to rest his eyes for a moment. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but he was exhausted. 

By the time he woke up, the timefall had cleared, but night had enveloped him in a blanket. The cave seemed especially dark, but the odradek provided a small amount of light, at least. He took his time to have a look around, no matter how empty. He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing the pain in his body would cease just so he could have enough time to return to the Distribution Center. He knew he was going to pass the MULEs again, but he would try to sneak past them. Before he left the cave, he picked up a memory chip, and set out again. 

He followed the river until he could spot a MULE camp in the distance. A large one at that. Luck seemed to remain on his side; despite how much it hurt, he waded through the water, crouched when needed, and snuck past them all. Once his feet hit the small amount of pavement of the halfway-built road, he took off running and didn't stop. He heard the ringing of an alarm behind him, but he refused to turn around. He had just enough battery life on his speed skeleton left to get him far enough away. 

At least, he hoped. He didn't want to know what would happen if he didn't. 

His knees trembled as he ran, the gunshot wound throbbing, the areas where bullets grazed him stung, his lungs were burning, and he was starting to feel dizzy. He wasn't sure just how many bullets hit him, nor how many bruises and scrapes he had, but he was running out of blood bags fast. The wounds littering his body formed some sort of shitty, painful constellation- they would create more scars he would grow to hate. But his lover would kiss every single one of them, trace them with delicate fingertips while dismissing all of Sam's negative words about himself. It seemed as though every negative word that spilled from his lips, Deadman had a compliment to replace it. 

Deadman was quick to reassure him every time, but before he even moved to touch Sam, he asked if it was okay. He always asked, and Sam appreciated that. Sometimes Sam didn't even have to respond, Deadman could tell by his body language on whether it was alright or not. He never made Sam feel like he was trapped. Even when they were close together, Deadman always made sure that Sam was comfortable, that he had a way out if need to be. Their relationship wasn't sexual, at least not yet, but they did cuddle rather often- and they cherished their own forms of intimacy. Sometimes Sam didn't want to be touched, so Deadman would just remain in his presence. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would simply enjoy the silence together. Occasionally Sam would like to be close, but not have so much of them touching; Deadman would happily hold his hand, or Sam would rest his head in Deadman's lap as he carded his fingers through Sam's hair. 

Those were Sam's favorite moments. Deadman made him feel safe. Secure. Loved.

No matter the situation, Deadman remained patient, he accommodated to Sam's needs. In turn, Sam did the same. 

He didn't realize how long he was lost in his thoughts, but he was suddenly at the Distribution Center, standing in front of the activated terminal. He shared the memory chip data; seeing the holoform of Deadman pop up surprised him. He expected it to be Mama, in all honestly. But seeing his lover brought a smile to his face.

Deadman's eyes widened at the state that Sam was in. He was covered in mud and blood, and he swayed where he stood. Worry and fear shook him to the core. He knew the possibilities of Sam getting hurt were high, but seeing him like this..

"Ah, Sam! Isn't this what Mama wanted? I suppose I could hold onto it for her, assuming that is alright with you, of course."

Sam nodded, wanting nothing more than to be with him right now. Deadman smiled and waved goodbye. "Stay safe, Sam." The unspoken 'I love you' heavy in the air. Sam waved, watching the holoform disappear into nothing. He stood there for longer than he probably should before he worked his way down to his private room. As soon as he entered, he put BB in her pod before flopping onto his bed. A shower, as much as he needed it, could wait until he felt like he could stand again.

***

When Sam woke up the next morning, he showered and used his meager amount of supplies to replace his makeshift bandages from the night before. They weren't perfect, but they would hold. He planned to Fragile jump to visit Deadman before heading to Mama's Lab. He could always go on the hunt for some chiral crystals around the area too, in case anyone asked why he was there.

Finally, _finally_ , Sam was seated on Deadman's lap, and Deadman held him close. They were resting in Sam's private room together at the Capital, ignoring the world around them, if only for a couple hours. They both knew they were being monitored, but they, just like the others, turned a blind eye. In a world filled with death lurking around every corner, why would anyone shame another for finding a brief moment of happiness? Deadman's hands lightly trailed across Sam's skin, gently tracing each scar, every handprint. When his hands grazed one of the many bandages, Sam could barely feel it. He was about to snap at him to stop treating him like he was made of glass, but something stopped him. He enjoyed being here, in this moment, not treated as some sort of expendable material; an object. He wanted to be treated with kindness. He-  
Deadman kissed the top of Sam's head, whispering how much he loved him into his hair, and Sam's thoughts could only revolve around him. 

Sam hid his smile in the crook of Deadman's neck. He was finally home. Not the Bridges establishment, but with Deadman. Wherever life took them, Sam hoped he could stay home with the man he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for touch-starved people finally getting the attention they seek,,,just,,,tender touches filled with so much love and unspoken words,,,oh my gOD!
> 
> The next chapter should be up either within the next couple hours, or after I get off work! :^)  
> Coming up I have a Deadman/Sam work planned!


End file.
